


Once I'm In I Own Your Heart

by cutie_lou_who



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Derogatory Language, Dom/sub, I'm probably going to just keep adding tags to this work as we go along, Idk it's just a lot of porn, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Praise Kink, Switch!Kent, dom!Bitty, sub!jack, sub!kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:10:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7542787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutie_lou_who/pseuds/cutie_lou_who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty is a professional Dominant for select wealthy clients. His motto?<br/>Don’t get attached to clients.<br/>He’s normally very good at following these rules; keeping his professional life separate from personal feelings. But then again, hockey players are known for pushing the rules</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 6 inch

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a little AU that came to me as I was trying to sleep. It refused to go away.  
> So now it seems I’m going to add to the little porn puddle of this fandom.  
> You may recognize this from a little AU drabble going around tumblr: That was me! Come talk about Check Please! with me at cutie-lou-who

Bitty’s takes a deep breath, schools his face into something vaguely haughty, then places his foot solidly on the chest of the gagged man in front of him.

God he loves his job.

He slowly applies pressure as he sneers at the man below him, taking pleasure in the muffled noises that he causes.

“Do you know what is wrong with this picture?” He continues with another sneer, not giving the man beneath time to answer. “No. Of course you don’t. You’re too dense to get fashion, isn’t that right?”

The man tilts his head back and hums in pleasure, and Bitty let’s a small smirk grace his lips; its the only way he can show his enjoyment without ruining the atmosphere he’s set.

He drags his foot down, letting the heel make pretty raised red lines on the man’s chest before it catches on the rope that winds around his torso and binds his hands.

“These are last season’s Valentino’s.” He sighs dramatically before he removes his foot so he can lean in. He takes a fistful of hair and tugs, causing dark eyes to meet his. “That makes me sad.”

Bitty puts on an exaggerated pout that makes the other man’s eyes widen.

“Do you not think I’m worth this season’s Valentino’s? Is that it, Derek?”

He takes great pleasure at how desperate Derek tries to please him after that.

~~~

Bitty leaves Derek’s penthouse apartment, money freshly transferred to his account, and Derek himself dozing on his couch with strict orders to text Bitty in the morning with a mood update.

As he wheels his little suitcase (a pair of Valentino’s fuller) out of the lobby he thinks that if any one told 19 year old Eric Bittle that he’d be a professional Dominant at age 25, well, he honestly wouldn’t have believed them.  
But goodness gracious does he love it.

His phone chirps at him after he settles in the backseat of his Uber.

It’s his calendar. He hums a little tune as he opens the notification.

Kent just got back from a roadie.

Bitty tries to suppress the thrill that goes through him at the thought that he’ll be on a plane two days from now headed to Vegas.

He counts to ten and repeats his mantra.

Don’t get attached to clients. Don’t get attached to clients. Don’t get attached to clients.

He opens his eyes, thanks his Uber driver in typical Southern fashion, waves to his neighbor Mrs. Betty in the hall before watching the elevator doors close.

He presses call.

Kent picks up after the second ring, and despite the way Bitty told himself not to get attached, warmth still leaks through his voice when he talks.

“Hey handsome, was that last win for me?”

It’s warm and teasing just like he knows Kent likes to hear after a long string of away games.

“Bits.”

Kent’s voice is a mixture of tired, relieved, and warm warm warm.

Bitty can’t resist the way it settles in his stomach as he unlocks his apartment and goes about putting things away.

“Hey Sugar. Have you started our checklist?”

Kent makes a soft noise that let’s Bitty know that he’s laying on his bed, Kit probably curled up on his chest.

Bitty has known Kent for nearly two years now, so he knows that Kent hasn’t started the checklist; he steels his voice with patent Bittle disappointment.

“Kent.”

He hears the sharp intake over the line that let’s him know he has Kent’s full attention.

“Tell me the checklist.”  
“Bitty, I-”  
“Now, Kent.”

Bitty smiles at the shaky breath he hears from Kent that let’s him know Kent is finally entering the right headspace.

“One. Feed Kit and make sure I paid her sitter.”  
“Good. Next.”  
“Two. Unpack my suitcase and put everything back where it goes.”  
“Have you unpacked yet, Kent?”

Another shaky exhale.

“No sir.”

“Start. Tell me the rest of the checklist as you do so.”

Bitty gets himself settled in his modest (but updated) kitchen as he registers shuffling from across the line.

Kent needs this. Bitty knows Kent needs this, needs the structure and the discipline set now, immediately after coming back home from the road. They both know Kent can backslide when the confines of hockey all the time isn’t there to distract and guide him.

Kent dutifully lists off his checklist as he goes through it, putting away clean clothes, putting back passports and other long travel items.

By the time he’s finished Bitty’s putting one pie dough in the fridge and starting another.

“Good job, Kent. See? I knew you could follow instructions, isn’t that right sugar?”

Kent’s voice is soft and almost needy when he answers.  
“Yes sir. I can listen.”

Bitty hums, pleased as punch, as he balances the phone between his shoulder and ear and switches dough.

Kent is so close to where he needs to be, that gentle floaty headspace where he can’t over think, and Bitty knows just how to push him over the edge.

“You can, can you? Did you follow my instructions during your away games? Hmm?”

Kent literally whines into the receiver and Bitty grins as he rolls out the dough for his blueberry lemon pie.

“Ah ah, that isn't an answer, now is it?”

They don’t have many rules during long roadies as Kent often gets too distracted being Captain of a wildly successful hockey team, but one rule has stayed true.

“Did you touch yourself, Kent? C'mon, tell me. Did you jack off thinking of the last time you were on your knees for me, or did you follow the rules like a good little slut should?”

The degrading pet name does the trick and Kent outright moans. Bitty smiles happily as he mixes the filling and continues on.

“Because you know, I thought about you Kent.” A soft, snuffling breath. “I watched you on the ice, saw you make goal after goal and thought about the last time I had you on your knees for me.”

Bitty bites his lip as he dumps the filling into his prepared crust and listens to Kent make a needy noise.

“Are you touching yourself now, Kent?”

“No Sir.” The response is immediate and breathless.

Bitty smirks to himself as he places the pie in the oven.

“Why not? Don’t you want to?” He asks as he washes his hands. He already knows the answer before Kent replies.

“You haven’t said I can yet, Sir.”

God, but the way this boy listens. It’s going to be the death of Bitty.

“That’s right, I haven’t. And you listen to me don’t you, darling?”

“Yes.” The s is drawn out in a way that makes Bitty seek out his couch and get comfortable.

“You love when I tell you no, don’t you Kent? You love that you can be my perfect little slut, follow all of my rules, and I’ll still tell you no.” Bitty pauses for effect, then sharpens his tone. “Answer me.”

“Yes sir. I love when you tell me no.”

Kent is breathless and eager and Bitty bites back a groan from how willing Kent is to please him.

“Strip.”  
“What? But I-”  
“Kent Parson, I believe I told you to strip.”

Bitty can tell when he’s put on speaker because there is a rush of noise from the other side before it quiets.

He relaxes into his couch, debates popping open the button of his shorts before he shakes his head.

This is about Kent. This is for Kent. He has to be able to stay focused if he wants to make sure that he reads all of Kent’s cues correctly through the phone.

There’s a loud shuffling noise that sounds like someone is blocking the receiver before Bitty hears a string of curses from Kent.

“Damn it Kit! Move away from the fucking phone!” A noise that sounds kind of like Kent is stumbling paired with a muffled ‘shit’ that makes Bitty giggle.

“Is that Kit on the phone? Hey baby girl, move away from the receiver so I can talk to your daddy. I’ll see you Saturday.”

He gets a soft meow in return before he hears Kent pick up the phone again.

“I can’t believe she even listens to you through the phone. What type of nonsense…”

Bitty’s grinning before he can stop it.

“Why don’t you believe it? You listen to me through the phone, don’t you darling?”

His tone is soft and teasing, but he still gets a soft sigh from Kent.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

Bitty has to get this scene back on track before the warm fluttering in his chest overwhelms him.

“Did you strip for me, Kent?” A nice firm voice, tinged just a tad with disappointment and Kent is right back to hanging onto Bitty’s every word.

“Yes sir.”  
“Good. Put the phone on the bed and kneel. Position three.”

If Bitty’s memory is right, the position will put Kent’s face a little above eye level with the edge of the bed.

Perfect for Bitty to be able to hear him, and for Kent to not have to strain to hear Bitty.

“Are your thighs spread apart, Kent? Remember palms up. Good sluts have to wait to touch until I tell them to.”

Kent’s breathing is a little irregular when he answers, and Bitty once again admires the way one little derogatory word can get Kent all hot and bothered.

“Yes sir. I remember, sir.”

Oh what Bitty would give to see Kent now. Kneeling with thighs apart, hands laid palm up on said thighs…

Bitty can picture the late afternoon sun lighting up Kent’s blonde hair, the fading bruises from his games fading in and out of the shadows, Kent’s gorgeous eyes hazy and looking up at him, pink mouth just barely parted…

Lord have mercy, his darling is a vision though.

He suddenly wishes Saturday was oh so closer.

“That’s a good boy, Kent. See? I knew you could listen, you just need the right initiative. Isn’t that right, sugar?”

A sharp intake that let’s Bitty perfectly imagine the way Kent is tensing his muscles not to touch.

Bitty grins.

“Do you think you deserve to touch yourself, darling? Do you think you deserve to come after weeks of listening to me and not daring to wrap your pretty fingers around your even prettier cock?”

Kent is panting and Bitty can tell the exact moment he opens his mouth to talk. He cuts him off.

“I think you do, sugar. It must have been so hard for a greedy little slut like you not to jerk off every night. Wrap your hand around your cock for me, baby.”

The long drawn out groan let’s Bitty know he’s being listened to.

“The right one, darling. Jerk off nice and slow with your right hand for me.”

It’s a special type of torture Bitty has made just for Kent, making him use his right hand even though he’s left handed. It makes Kent almost hyper focus on his own pleasure; gets him even further out of his own habit of keeping up appearances.

There’s a choked off moan that makes Bitty tsk.

“Uh uh, sugar. I need to hear ya now. It ain’t fair to me that you’re keeping all your slutty noises to yourself.”

He knows the way his accent thickens when he’s turned on gets Kent riled up like nothing else, can hear it in the way his noise level notches up in volume.

“Shit, Bitty, f-fuck.”  
“Do you wanna come, baby?”

Kent is loudly panting, soft groans and whimpers interspersed, and it shatters Bitty’s self control.

Bitty let’s his hand drop to his lap and rub his erection through his shorts. A soft groan escapes his own lips and he knows Kent hears it because his own sounds seem to echo over the phone.

“S-sir. Bitty.”

Bitty presses down firmly, let’s out a loud exhale.

“You’re close aren’t ya, sugar? Go on, beg me to come.”  
“Please, p-please.”  
“C'mon now. You can do better than that. Be a good slut for me, tell me what I wanna hear.”

It’s words Bitty would maybe feel uncomfortable saying to anyone else, but after nearly two years of Kent being his client, he knows he’s still well within Kent’s limits.

“Please Sir. I’ve been good, I’ve been so so good, please please. I’m your good slut please let me come.”

Kent’s so close he’s babbling and Bitty gives a happy hum and let’s his head fall back against the couch.

“Go ahead baby. Come for me, let me hear you.”

Kent comes loudly, and Bitty can almost see it in his mind.

He counts to thirty, focusing entirely on Kent’s breathing on the other side.

“Kent. Give me your color, sugar.”

“Green.” It’s shaky and quiet but Kent sounds happy. Happy and floaty and just how Bitty wanted him.

“Good. You did so good, darling. You listened to me so well, I’m so proud of you.”

Kent is making happy little sigh noises that make Bitty wish he was there to run his fingers through Kent’s untameable cowlicks.

“I need you to get up now darling, I need you to let go of the position and head into the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” Kent sounds lazy and almost drunk; it makes Bitty smile.

“Yeah sugar, you need to run a nice warm bath and clean up.”  
“Mm…bath sounds nice.”  
“It will be nice, darling. You’ll relax, get all the knots out of your muscles, center yourself.”

Kent makes a happy noise, and Bitty can hear the phone being picked up.

“What about you?” Gosh, there’s Kent, coming back to himself already.

“I’m going to take a pie out of the oven, and then wait for you to text me after your bath.”

“Mmmm, pie.” Bitty hears the water turn on and takes that as his cue to get up and get his pie.

“Yeah, pie. Maybe if you good I’ll make you some when I visit.”

There’s a long pause before Kent replies.

“That would be really nice, Bits. I’m going to get in the bath now, okay?”

Kent’s still looking for approval so Bitty gentles his voice even as he cradles his phone between his shoulder and ear and takes his pie out.

“That sounds good, sugar. Make sure you text me later, alright?”  
“Yes sir.” It’s slightly mocking, and Bitty can hear the grin in his voice as he says goodbye and they both hang up.

Yeah. Bitty needs to watch how close he feels to Kent Parson.

~~~

Bitty spends the rest of his night baking another pie, texting Kent, checking up on Derek, and catching up on TV shows.

It’s around 9 at night when he remembers to check his work email.

Bitty is an independent service, sure, but he still goes through a professional vetted site to get new clients.

Mostly it’s just him emailing back and forth with his correspondent, Larissa, who sends him new ‘possibles’.

Bitty always has the final say, all the way up to if he will meet with a new client, but he likes the security he gets by having a professional business vet all his new clients.

Which is why he’s instantly curious when he gets a…weird email from Larissa.

_“Sup Bitty,_

_I know you’ve noticed that I didn’t attach a typical 'resume’ like I normally do. It’s because this next guy I want you to check out is kinda a personal favor to me._  
He’s a friend of one of mine (S, I told you about him, remember?) so I know him IRL and can vet for him.  
I attached a little bio, as well as confidentiality papers, which he kinda insisted on happening. I know it’s just the typical for you so I didn’t see a problem with his conditions.  
Look, just promise you’ll meet him okay? I swear he’s pretty tame for this type of work, and he’s really a decent bro. He just…could really benefit from someone like you.  
Plus he’s as high profile as your normal clients so your wallet won’t take a hit. 

_Let me know your decision,_

_Lars.”_

Larissa is always casual, which Bitty appreciates, and which has led to them becoming more like friends and less like business associates. To have her personally vet someone?

Well.

Bitty’s curious to what coffee with this 'Jack L. Z.’ character will be like.

~~~


	2. Earned It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty visits Kent in sunny Las Vegas.  
> Tbh when I went to upload this off my phone(bc I'm trash sorry), it put the title as "Bitty gets off". It wasn't that far off.

Bitty gets off the plane and let’s the Las Vegas heat envelope him.  
It’s a drier heat than Georgia, but it’s already more familiar than the cold he’s gotten used to up north.  
He shoulders his carry-on and scans the airport. If his memory serves him right, baggage claim should be just around the left corner. He nods and starts walking when he sees the sign that confirms his assumptions.

He has just barely turned the corner when he sees him.

Kent Parson is leaning casually against a support post, but he straightens up as soon as he sees Bitty.  
Bitty can’t keep his grin from taking over his whole face.

“Kent! You didn’t tell me you would be able to get out of practice early!”

Kent smirks and adjusts his hat.

“Well, have to keep you on your toes somehow, Bits.”

Bitty swats him on his shoulder, careful to keep it light and casual, but he still sees Kent’s pupils dilate just a bit at the disciplinary contact.  
He smirks.

“I’d say you keep me on my toes enough, Mister. Now hurry along, you can grab my bag for me.”

Kent smiles slow and sweet at Bitty before giving a mock salute and a lazy ‘Yes Sir’.

Bitty shakes his head fondly, amazed at how him and Kent can fall into a rhythm so easily.  
He’s been to Kent’s enough times that Kent knows Bitty’s bag on sight. Even if he didn’t though, Bitty supposes that his flashy pie baggage tag would give him away.  
Kent hoists Bitty’s bag effortlessly onto his shoulder before looking at Bitty for more instructions.

Gosh, Kent Parson is going to be the death of him. So damn eager to please Bitty. It took a while to get there, but the time it took to get Kent to trust him just makes the satisfaction Bitty gets when Kent looks at him like this all that more awarding.

“Well, c'mon sugar. Lead me to whatever fancy car you have waiting in the parking lot.”

Kent holds out his hand for Bitty’s carry on, and Bitty smiles at him sweetly.

“Nuh uh, sugar. You’ll see what I have in here when we get back to the apartment.”

He throws a coy look over his shoulder as he starts walking.  
“That’s only if you’re a good boy though.”

The shudder that runs through Kent is satisfying in the most basic of ways.

~~~

 

It’s a short drive to Kent’s place. Well, short by Vegas standards.

They pass the time by chit chatting idly about everything and nothing, and Bitty cherishes every genuine smile he can get from Kent.  
However by the time they get to Kent’s, Bitty can tell that Kent is itching to see what’s inside the innocuous carry on that sat in Bitty's lap the whole way over. He glances at it throughout the whole walk to the elevator, in the elevator, and repeatedly almost drops his keys when he tries to unlock his door all because he’s too distracted. Bitty knew that Kent’s curiosity would keep him interested, but Kent seems ready to practically beg to see what’s in the carry on by the time he gets the door open and ushers Bitty inside.

Too bad for Kent because Bitty has other ideas.

In one fluid movement, Bitty drops the carry on carelessly, and man handles Kent against the now closed door. The bag Kent was carrying gets dropped to the floor in his surprise.  
Kent’s a bit bigger than Bitty, being a professional hockey player will do that to a man, Bitty supposes. But despite Bitty’s small stature, he’s all lean compact muscle, so it’s easy to pin Kent against the door; one hand tight on his wrist, the other pressed hard into Kent’s shoulder.

Okay, maybe Bitty’s added a bit more strength and conditioning to his typical work-out routine, but oh Lord is it worth it to see Kent’s eyes widen and breath quicken.

“Hey there, sugar.” Bitty’s voice is all slow honeyed accent and Kent shudders beneath his touch.

Bitty slowly slides the hand on Kent’s shoulder up, gracing hard muscle before it settles on the side of Kent’s neck. Kent leans into his touch, eyes starting to get that lazy turned on droop to them.  
Bitty smiles soft and slow and before Kent knows it, there’s a hand in his hair, grip tight and jerking his head back.  
He hisses even as his hips jerk closer to Bitty. Bitty tsks at him before leaning up to place almost too gentle kisses trailing up Kent’s neck.

“Are you going to be a good boy and kiss me proper, sugar?”

Kent whines.

“Yes, Sir. Please sir.”

Bitty let’s go of his hair and steps back completely, making Kent bite his lip to keep from complaining from the lack of contact he so desperately needs.

“Well, c’mon now.” All it takes is Bitty’s raised eyebrow and Kent is stepping forward, tilting his head down to catch Bitty’s lips in a heated kiss.  
It has been over a month since he’s had Bitty here to touch and kiss and feel, and Kent gets lost in the feeling of Bitty’s lips against his. When Bitty finally pulls away, Kent blinks his eyes open lazily.

Bitty smiles at him soft and sweet making his chest feel tight and hot. Kent realizes that his arms are wrapped around Bitty, but Bitty doesn’t seem to mind as his thumb rubs soft circles into Kent’s bicep.

“That’s my pretty boy. I love when you kiss me like that.”

Kent leans further into Bitty, eyes dropping to Bitty’s lips. God, he want’s to kiss Bitty until Bitty tells him he’s not allowed to anymore. He would gladly kiss him until he got lightheaded.

“Ah ah, sugar. No more kissing. Not just yet. You can show me how good you are at it later.”

Bitty wiggles out of his arms, despite how convincingly Kent was doing his koala impression.

“Get my bags, honey. Set them at the end of the bed and wait for me there.”

Bitty smirks at him before heading into Kent’s kitchen, fully expecting Kent to just follow his directions without further instruction.  
Which he will. 

~~~

Bitty watches Kent shoulder both his bags and head towards his bedroom. The casual strength he displays shouldering both of Bitty’s bags with hardly a grunt goes straight to Bitty’s cock. It’s almost enough to forgo making Kent wait in the bedroom for him, but he knows all too well how the anticipation only heightens the scene for Kent.  
He turns and busies himself with making two cups of ice water, and a basic little fruit tray for later. As he goes to put all his prepared fruit into the fridge to keep, a small meow interrupts him.

Sitting at his feet with big green eyes is Kit Purrson, looking to all the world like she expects to be pet immediately. Bitty closes the fridge and happily obliges.

“Hey there, princess.” He coos at her softly as he pets her head. She turns her purr on full blast when he goes to scratch under her chin. “Yeah I’ve missed you too, princess, but I think I’ve made your daddy wait long enough.”

Kit gives him one more soft meow before wandering off. Bitty smiles, washes his hands, and then with one last deep breath, heads into the bedroom.

Lord he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the scene that greets him.  
Kent is lying on the bed, looking to anyone like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He had removed his shirt and pants, but left his boxer briefs on. Bitty takes in all the pretty freckled skin left exposed, even though he can feel Kent’s eyes tracking his progress across the room.

Kent hasn’t moved a muscle, but Bitty can see how his nipples harden the longer he looks at him, as well as the outline of his hard cock. 

It’s very very hard to keep his face neutral in the face of so much temptation, but somehow Bitty manages.  
It’s been over five minutes before Bitty talks, and even though his voice is soft, Kent still twitches at the sound of it.

“Mm very pretty, sugar.” The praise makes Kent look like he want’s to beg for Bitty to put his hands on him, but they’ve played this game for so long that he knows better.   
Bitty drags his hand across the whole length of the bed, careful to keep a distance between him and Kent. Kent’s eyes track every movement.

“What’s your color, Kent.” It’s more a demand than a question, tone hard even when Bitty’s accent is liquid.

“Green. So so green.”

Bitty’s lips quirk up at the answer, and he lets his hand rest on Kent’s ankle as he stands at the end of the bed, overlooking Kent laid out for him. It’s the only point of contact between them, and Kent feels himself become hyper focused on how warm Bitty’s palm is.

“What do you say if you want to stop?”

Bitty’s thumb brushes lightly against his skin with the words, and Kent’s breath stutters.

“R-red, Sir.”

Bitty let’s his hand trail up Kent’s calf, touch soft but firm, before he removes his hand completely. Kent whines, greedy for Bitty’s slightly calloused hand to return.  
Bitty ignores him as he turns away to face his bags.

“Remember now, stay still.”

Kent’s afraid to blink, worried that if he does he’ll miss the chance to see if Bitty reaches for his travel bag or carry on. 

 

Fucking hell, it’s the carry on. 

 

Kent can’t help his sharp intake of breath, and Bitty shoots him an amused glance. He opens the bag, shuffles a few things about, and then pockets something.  
Kent is doing everything he possibly can not to fidget. His hands are clutching his comforter so tight he thinks he can almost feel his nails through the thick fabric. Any appearance of nonchalance he may have achieved earlier has died a fiery death in the face of Bitty’s dark gaze and raised eyebrow.

Just before Kent thinks he may spontaneously combust by the anticipation, Bitty crawls up into the bed and hovers over Kent. Every inch of him is very decidedly not touching any inch of Kent, and fuck, fuck, fuck, Kent might scream if this goes on any longer.

Both of them have the idle thought that it’s been way too long since they have been this hard and ready to go.  
Bitty smiles at Kent, the edge of it dark, before he dips his head forward and kisses Kent. 

The kiss is deep and endless. Bitty has a way of kissing that makes Kent think he’s the only person to ever gets Bitty’s attention, and he spends every second of the kiss torn between losing himself in it and trying to keep up. Bitty breaks the kiss with a sharp nip to Kent’s bottom lip which makes him gasp into Bitty’s mouth.

“What a pretty little slut someone has left for me to play with.”

The words send lightning down Kent’s spine, and he has the nearly nauseating thought that his toes may have curled in pleasure.

“It was nice of them to leave me such a pretty thing, don’t cha think?” Bitty’s tone is casual, like he’s going over what temperature is the best to bake peach cobbler at, but his body has gone from hovering over Kent’s, to being deliciously pressed against him. Bitty’s hands slip in between them to twist at Kent’s nipples and Kent presses himself into the mattress with a soft grunt to keep from moving.

Bitty’s playing dirty, he knows how sensitive Kent’s nipples are, just like he knows Kent hasn’t touched himself there since the last time they’ve played. Bitty’s nails scratch sudden and sharp down Kent’s chest, and Kent has no hope of stifling his surprised moan, or the arch of his back.

“I believe I asked a question, slut. Don’t cha think it was nice for me to be given such a pretty little whore to use?”

The sharp punch of Bitty’s tone and the short nails digging into his hips makes Kent a desperate mess.

“Yes Sir!” He gasps out; he’s rewarded with Bitty’s nails leaving his skin. Kent doesn’t have to look to know he has angry red crescent moon marks pressed into his skin now to match the red lines down his chest. He takes a shuddering breath.  
He’s never felt so present.

Bitty’s hands go back to twisting and teasing Kent’s nipples; a reward and punishment all at once.

“Mhm. We’ll have to work on those listening skills of yours, won’t we?” Bitty leans close to, lips gracing Kent’s ear, breath hot. “Don’t worry sugar, I have just the thing to help with that.”

The slight pinch on both his nipples is so unexpected that Kent breaks the rules and leans up a bit to look down at himself.

“What the fuck-”

Nipple clamps.

Bitty had fucking nipple clamps in his carry on. He went through security with nipple clamps in his carry on. He probably smirked exactly like he is now when the poor TSA guy scanned his bag, thinking about this very situation he has Kent in.

Fuck. The pressure on Kent’s nipples is straddling the edge between discomfort and pain, a steady throb that seems to threaten to turn into sharp pain at a moment’s notice.  
Kent loves them.

Bitty grins down at Kent, far too pleased with the blissed out shocked face Kent is giving him.

“See? I knew a proper slut would enjoy my little toys. You enjoy them don’t you?”

Kent finds himself nodding at Bitty’s words until Bitty snaps the elastic of Kent’s boxer briefs against the already sore marks on his hips. Kent hisses and his hips grind up into Bitty’s just enough that he can feel that Bitty is just as hard as he is in his little red shorts.

“With words. Show me you can be good and use your words, sugar.”

Kent is so far gone on this little blond with his sharp Southern accent and firm hands.

“Yes sir, I like them.”  
Bitty tilts Kent’s head up and stares into his hooded eyes. He raises a single blond eyebrow. Kent gulps before he continues.

“I like them, Sir. I like them because I’m your good little slut. They’re perfect.”  
Bitty’s smile is a sweet thing that coats Kent’s insides like warm syrup.

“That’s right, they are perfect.” Bitty flicks his thumb over the clamp, causing Kent to moan and arch up at the sharpness. “Just like you.”

Then Bitty’s gone. He’s back standing at the end of the bed, and Kent feels like he’s burning.

“N-no. Please. More.” He gasps out, too far invested to care if he’s begging.  
Bitty shushes him quietly, his own hands going to his button and fly.   
“Turn over, sugar. I’m done playing so sweet with you.”

Kent turns over quickly, totally forgetting about the nipple clamps until they almost catch on his comforter. He lets go a string of curses before rising up to all fours like he know’s Bitty wants.

He’s caught off by Bitty’s soft snort.

“Of fucking course.” Bitty drags his hand across Kent’s ass, and Kent remembers that he wore his new underwear that has “PARSON #90” across the ass in bright red letters. Bitty gives Kent’s ass one more affectionate pat before he roughly pulls down the boxer briefs and push apart Kent’s knees.

“Open up for me, slut. I shouldn’t have to do all the work here.” 

Kent moans loudly and spreads his legs as far apart as he can comfortably and still keep position. Bitty hums his approval before two lubed fingers trace Kent’s hole.  
Kent pushes back greedily, so turned on he think he might explode, and the motion makes a soft tinkling noise. He freezes, even as Bitty let’s out cute little giggles.

“Didn’t you notice sugar? Our new toys have cute little bells on them. Only the best for such a pretty little slut of course.”

The combination of the words and a slick finger tip slipping inside him makes Kent’s head drop forward as he lets out a long moan.

“Fuck.”

The finger tip twists inside him before going deeper, making Kent’ jerk and the bells attached to his nipples twinkle.  
The noise reminds him a little of the bell collar he got Kit when she was a kitten, and the connection is simultaneously demeaning and hot as hell.

Bitty adds another finger, and more lube, listening to the sounds of Kent’s little moans and gasps interspersed with the soft tinkling of the bells and has to push his shorts down far enough to release his erection. Kent is all fluid muscle as he pushes back on Bitty’s fingers in smooth rolling motions, and Bitty gets ahead of himself and adds a third finger.  
Kent cusses and his shoulders drop forward just a bit as he drops from balancing on his hands to his forearms. Bitty pauses.

“Color?”

Kent moans and wiggles back on Bitty’s three fingers stretching him wide like he’s desperate to get them moving again.

“Green, green, I’m so fucking green, please.”

Kent’s voice is so wrecked that Bitty can’t help the groan that comes from his own mouth. He removes his fingers and gives Kent’s ass a sharp slap that causes him to jerk and make the bells ting.

“Such a greedy whore. I bet you want me to fuck you, don’t cha?”  
“Please, please, please.”

Kent is begging, his hips making quick little jerks like he’s dying to move but know’s he’s not allowed to. Bitty adds more lube to his fingers before he shoves them back in, twisting and coating the inside of Kent’s hole liberally. Kent practically howls at the motion, hips jerking and riding Bitty’s fingers.

“Such a pretty hole deserves to be fucked I suppose…” Bitty trails off and takes his fingers out, enjoying the wanton noises Kent is making. He slides a condom on one handed, a skill he’s had perfected since he was 21, as he slides up onto his knees and digs his other hand into Kent’s hair, jerking his head back.

With one fluid motion he slides into Kent, and the moans that echo in the room create a harmony so beautiful it might as well be sinful.

“Fuck so good, baby. Lord, you feel good wrapped around me. It’s been too fuckin’ long..” Bitty is babbling as his hips thrust and grind into Kent, his fingers keeping a firm grip on Kent’s golden hair and bruised hip. 

The noises Kent are making are desperate hurt little things; the tug from the clamps on his nipples and the feel of Bitty’s cock stretching and filling him too much to handle. Every nerve ending feels like it’s plugged into a light socket, and the dirty praise Bitty is babbling is turning Kent into a cloud.

Bitty keeps his hips moving in a steady punishing rhythm, the sound of the bells echoing their every move. He’s so close, too fucking close, it’s been so long since he’s actually fucked someone that he feels himself unraveling at the seams, hears his words becoming filthy nonsense. 

He quickly lets go of Kent’s hip to wrap his fingers around Kent’s gorgeous cock. One, two, three pulls and Kent is giving a hoarse shout and both of them are falling, falling, falling.

~~~

Bitty comes back to himself first and he pulls out gently, shushing Kent’s muffled protests with soft kisses across his freckled shoulders. He ties off the condom and gets up on shaky legs to switch it out with the pack of wet wipes he knows Kent keeps in the dresser drawer. 

He’ll deal with it later.  
With soft motions he cleans Kent up, being much less careful with his own wipedown. He places soft kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, Kent making soft little noises every tip Bitty’s lips touch. Bitty runs his fingers through Kent’s ruffled hair, placing a soft kiss to the back of Kent’s neck before pulling away. Kent’s protests to the lack of touch are obvious but quiet.

“Kent, honey. I need you to turn over for me. Can you be a good boy and turn over?” Kent nods, a soft hiss leaving his mouth even as Bitty warns him to be careful. Kent finally gets himself turned over and Bitty rewards him with more kisses peppering all over Kent’s blissed out face.

“That’s my sweet boy, you listen so well for me.” Bitty takes a new wet wipe and cleans up the come off Kent’s stomach, before moving to swipe gently over Kent’s soft cock. He gives Kent little pecks at the corner of his mouth as he does so, which Kent accepts happily.

Bitty leans back, admiring the sight that is a sleepy, satisfied Kent Parson with cute belled nipple clamps still attached. He smiles as he lays a hand on Kent’s face, causing hazy eyes to blink open.

“Ready for the fun part, sugar?”

Kent gives Bitty an unimpressed look.

“I thought we did the fun part. My ass and I agree that we already did the fun part.”

Bitty chuckles, and brings the edge of his fingertips up so they jingle a bell just enough to bring Kent’s attention to the nipple clamps again. Kent’s eyes widen.

“Oh. Oh, fuck.”   
Bitty giggles at Kent’s tone, and gives him a sweet peck before he grins down at him.

“They are even more intense coming off, then they are being put on…”

At Kent’s wide eyed slightly scared, mostly intrigued look, Bitty decides that he’s glad he put the fruit tray in the fridge.

It may be a while until they get to it….

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this ended up being shameless smut. I would say I'm sorry but I'm not.   
> I don't ever know if I get the spacing right when I try to post on this site, so bear with me. I wrote almost all of this chapter while listening to The Weeknd so you get another song title chapter title.
> 
> I'm not sorry for that either.


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